


On the Pavement Underneath

by romanticalgirl



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-14
Updated: 2013-04-14
Packaged: 2017-12-08 12:09:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/761153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Originally posted 10-25-08</p>
    </blockquote>





	On the Pavement Underneath

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted 10-25-08

Her spine lies parallel to the edge of the bed, staring across the vast expanse of mattress between them. She remembers when the distance was easy to cross, to bridge until she was snug against his warm skin and lost in the steady rhythm of his breath, lulling them both to sleep.

His back is to her now, his body turned in on itself for comfort, and she wonders when things changed. She wonders when he stopped touching her like he couldn’t get enough of her presence, like he was afraid she might fly away if he didn’t hold on like a balloon dancing at the end of a ribboned string.

She longs for comfort and wishes she didn’t feel so weak for asking for it, wishes that she didn’t need it to chase away the stream of thoughts that spin and start, churning like the base of a waterfall, froth and angry foam. She wants to move closer and lay against him, feel the rise and fall of his chest, but she can’t quite bear the feeling of him turning over, pulling away as though her touch disturbs his rest just as his comforts hers.

It’s the contact she craves, she knows. The pure tactile sensation of humanity, fingers and hands, arms and chest, the brush of lips and the gentle caress of movement. She needs it like air, needs to feel wanted, needed. She lives mired in her own uncertainties and digs herself deeper with every shift of the bed as he moves farther away. She turns away from him, wondering if it will hurt less if she can’t see those moments, but it doesn’t because she can feel them in the tug of the sheet and the sudden absence of the comforter bringing a physical chill along with the emotional one that makes her shiver.

The words hover on the tip of her tongue, like a secret waiting to be spilt. She wants to ask him if he still loves her, wants to know if he’s sorry that he’s here with her, wants to be hear him say that he doesn’t wish he’d made different choices, that he was somewhere else right now. She doesn’t think he would tell her those things – either he would lie or they’re simply not true – but she can’t bear the thought that he might, that all those fears are founded in reality, that they’re all true.

She closes her eyes and tries to breathe slowly, pushing it all out of her mind, hoping her head will follow the lead and drift off into a steady rhythm. She stares at the clock until her eyes burn and blur and close, as she wills the night to end.


End file.
